


A Liar to Love

by agentx13 (rebelle_elle)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Love/Hate Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suspecting Fury has given Agent 13 more than Project Insight busywork, Alexander Pierce assigns Brock Rumlow to find out what her real job is. Sharon, though, isn't stupid enough to fall for him blindly, and before long the two spies are playing against one another, spinning dangerously closer together as they try to discover the truth about the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Liar to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Another installment for Sharon Carter Appreciation Month!

Pierce slid the file across the desk before leaning back and crossing his legs. “She’s a young agent, but she’s legacy. She requested an assignment in Washington to be closer to her aunt.”

Brock flipped through the file. The photos showed a not-unattractive woman with blond curls; the paperwork showed a list of previous assignments. Brock nodded to himself. Young, but she’d worked hard and already had an impressive record. “You want her turned or taken out?”

Pierce’s lips twisted in distaste, as if the thought of someone being “taken out” were beneath him. Spade’s a spade, Brock thought. “Monitored for now. She’s one of SHIELD’s fastest-climbing agents. Good enough to order to Madripoor or wherever else SHIELD needs her, but Fury’s agreed to let her stay here. Her aunt may be a founder of SHIELD, but he wouldn’t let her stay here without giving her something more important than Project Insight busywork to do. I want to know what it is. After that, we’ll decide what to do with her.”

Brock closed the file and pushed it back to Pierce. It wouldn’t do for him to be caught with the file outside of this room. “I’ll find out.”

Pierce nodded and stood as he left. Though nothing was said, Brock was willing to bet Sharon Carter’s time on earth was about to run out.

* * *

She wasn’t as easy to find as he’d thought. The apartment listed in her file was furnished, but there were no personal touches there. And, he noticed, no person. A neighbor picked up the mail, timers were on the lights. But Sharon Carter wasn’t here.

Still, he knew other places he could look for her.

* * *

Sharon Carter had been assigned to Project Insight, and Brock was looking forward to seeing her face when she realized it was actually a HYDRA project. Watching her, he noticed that even though she wasn’t in charge of the operation, she was the one the others looked to. Even her supervisor simply gave her Fury’s orders before letting her essentially run the place. Shame they’d likely have to kill her. If they could bring her to HYDRA, it wouldn’t just be a coup to have SHIELD’s cofounder on their side, it would be smart. 

He left her to her work and took some time to play the dutiful SHIELD agent. He was eating lunch in the mess hall and making plans to follow her home to find out where she was really living when she sat down across from him.

“Why have you been watching me?”

He smirked over the sandwich. He should have known she’d be direct. Probably brassy in other ways, too, if Director Carter was any indication. “Was thinking about asking you to dinner.”

“Then you should have done it before being a damn creep.”

He watched as she walked away, pausing just long enough to grab a burger on her way out. He was going to enjoy playing with this one.

* * *

She was better at covering her tracks than he’d expected, and he still didn’t know where she lived. If he hadn’t been having so much fun, it would have bothered him more.

He made it a point to swing by mission control multiple times throughout the day, always giving her a friendly wave. He knew the good-guy type. He worked with Captain America, after all. He knew how to play the part, how to wear her down. He started chatting with her coworkers, joking with them and helping them in little ways. He conspired with fellow HYDRA agents to have them put in a good word for him, or drop a pen or file so Brock could pick it up and appear kind and helpful. He didn’t try to approach her directly, but he continued casting glances in her direction, letting her know he was still interested. He learned that she didn’t use her name, that she preferred to be called Agent, that her favorite food was hamburgers, that she liked her coffee black, that she practiced gymnastics more than weightlifting.

She never even seemed to noticed him.

He’d been at it for weeks before her constant dismissal started to get to him. She was stubborn. He liked that. He found he liked a lot of things about her, like the way people in the room trusted her, the way she managed them without offending anyone, the way her shirts didn’t button up all the way. But the more she ignored him, the more he liked the thought of breaking her, too, of watching her cry and beg for mercy until she either became a loyal HYDRA agent or died.

But that wasn’t his mission yet, so he continued playing his part.

He almost ran into her when she cut him off in the doorway. He looked down at her, and it took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t going to move out of his way. He grinned again, wondering if that turned him on more than it irritated him and slowly moved out of the way.

She didn’t budge. Her arms were crossed, and Brock didn’t dare allow himself to peek down her shirt. He had to pretend to be a good boy. “Mats at five.”

She turned away, and Brock smiled after her. That was promising.

* * *

The gyms at the Triskellion were modelled on Olympic training centers. One gym in particular focused more on hand-to-hand, with the floor almost entirely covered with sparring mats. Brock arrived early and did some light stretches while he waited for her to arrive. It was two minutes past five when he saw her walking over, already dressed in workout clothes, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“I should mention that I’m on the STRIKE team,” he said with an easy smile.

“Your mother must be very proud,” Sharon drawled. She took an offensive stance on the mat. He matched her.

Two hours later, both of them were sitting on the mat, out of breath and sweating. He’d gotten her to the ground three times; she’d returned the favor twice. He’d only meant for her to win once.

“You’re pretty good, for a techie.”

“You’re not, for someone with STRIKE.” She smirked at him and pushed herself to her feet.

He gave his head a quick shake to get the sweat out of his eyes. “So either you buy me a burger as consolation for my injured pride, or I buy you one for handing me my ass.”

She grabbed a towel from the wall and let it hang around her neck. She didn’t look at him, but he knew by now that patience paid off with her. Sure enough, she looked over when she finished drying the sweat on her neck. “There _is_ an insanely expensive burger place I’ve been wanting to try out.”

He hopped to his feet. “That means you’re paying, Agent.”

She grinned, but it was a wider grin than any he’d gotten so far. “We’ll see.”

* * *

She ordered just as much food as he did and matched him drink for drink. Conversation focused on preferred weaponry and fighting techniques. He actually found himself enjoying the time with her and huffed when his phone went off. He recognized the number and looked quickly at her.

She held up a hand and shook her head. “It’s the job.”

He grabbed his jacket. “When I get back, we’re getting dinner again. Without the beatdown beforehand.” She grinned but stayed silent. He didn’t let himself get discouraged and smiled broadly. “Maybe breakfast, too.”

“Don’t push it, Rumlow.”

“You rank below me, Agent. You can’t give me orders.”

“I can. Up to you whether you obey them or not.”

He laughed. “Enjoy paying that bill.” He headed out into the cold air, and the smile fell from his face. He was actually starting to like her, damn it.

* * *

Sharon wasn’t sure she liked him. He was easygoing, sure, and he understood what it meant to be an agent. She knew that he was on Captain Rogers’ STRIKE team. Hell, he was even STRIKE team leader. But if Natasha managed to work with him, he couldn’t be a bad guy, right?

She left cash on the table and headed out, calling Natasha as soon as she hit the street. The two often communicated, if only to keep notes on Captain Rogers. She didn’t bother with greetings, opening instead with, “You can stop trying to set me up. I just went on a date with Brock Rumlow.”

Natasha, naturally, didn’t miss a beat. Sharon had never met anyone who thought and adapted so quickly. “So how’d it go?”

“I don’t know. It was... nice? We sparred and then ate. He didn’t give me any flack for kicking his ass or eating more than he did.”

“You know, if you want someone who will meet higher standards, I have some-”

“For God’s sake, Natasha.” Natasha didn’t make a sound, but Sharon could almost hear the smile. Natasha’s laughs were rare. “He threw one of the bouts.”

“What?”

“I took him down on the mats twice. One of them, he let me. And before that, he... it’s almost like stalking, a little.”

“Sharon.” Natasha was quiet for barely a second. “Did you spar with him so you could learn his weaknesses?”

Sharon turned down an alley, using one of her many tricks for losing tails. Given her current assignment, and Rumlow’s interest in her, it was better to be safe than sorry. “Is that bad?”

Natasha sighed. “I thought you grew up normal.”

“Sorry I didn’t have your upbringing,” she said dryly, “but no. I don’t think my upbringing was normal. But back to Brock. You work with him. What do you think?”

Natasha was quiet. Each of them had enough respect for the other that Sharon had confidence - or at least hope - that Natasha wouldn’t dismiss her concerns out of hand. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

She wasn’t relieved enough to sigh. She wanted to know what Brock was up to. If he was actually up to something. “Thanks. So you and Captain Rogers are off on mission?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I get back and let you know how it went.” And with that, Natasha disconnected. She’d never been one for goodbyes.

* * *

The mission took two days. As soon as he was back, he headed to mission control. Looking through the glass, it occurred to him that it should bother him how he’d come straight here. And as much as he told himself it was for the mission, he’d thought of her a little too much while he was away. 

She glanced at him through the window and tapped one of the techs softly on the shoulder before coming into the hall. “If you want an ass-kicking right now, I’m busy.”

“I’ll settle for dinner tonight.”

She hesitated before giving a faint nod. “Fine. But this time, you’d better not stick me with the check.”

* * *

He met with Pierce to give an update on his mission with Captain Rogers and with Agent Carter. 

The report seemed to bother Pierce. Instead of sitting with his legs crossed, he got up to pace in front of the window. “No one lives at her place?”

Rumlow shook his head. “No, sir. I’ve tried following her, but she’s had training dodging tails.”

“You’re STRIKE team leader, Rumlow.” Pierce’s voice was calm but frigid. “She can’t be as challenging as you think. Continue with the mission. Have a report by next week.”

* * *

“He didn’t mention you while we were away,” Natasha greeted her in the hall outside Fury’s office. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“But did you pick up on anything... you know, off?”

Natasha shook her head. “He was all business. He usually is. Think you’re going to go on another date with him? You could say no, you know.”

Sharon frowned. “You don’t find answers if you don’t look.”

Natasha grinned. “You’re such a young spy.” Sharon stuck her tongue out at her, and Natasha’s grin spread. “You’d better go. Steve’s giving his report to Fury now and should be out any second.”

Sharon rolled her eyes but headed out.

“Wear something nice!” Natasha teased behind her.

* * *

The second date went even better than the first, as far as dinner went. She even wore a dress, which had to be a good sign. Afterward, he followed her home only to lose her at a hospital. After the third date, she went back to the Triskellion to finish up some work and he got called away on another mission before she left. The fourth date, she met Natasha after for a sparring session and he decided it might be wiser to clear out before Romanoff spotted him and asked too many questions. There were spies, and then there was Natasha Romanoff. He hadn’t even known the two knew each other.

The fifth date, she left his apartment while he was still sleeping.

* * *

“There’s nothing in his apartment. Nothing suspicious.” Sharon set the eggs on the table, and Natasha looked at them dubiously. With Steve living across the hall, Natasha had used the window to get in. Judging by her face, she didn’t think the eggs were worth it. Sharon ignored her and tossed the hand towel over her shoulder. Maybe if she looked the part of a chef, it would magically happen. “He had the standard weaponry, but nothing to raise red flags.”

“How did you search his apartment?” Natasha asked as she poked at the eggs with a fork. 

“I... waited until he fell asleep.”

Natasha looked up at her. Sharon stared back. Neither of them spoke for several seconds. “I underestimated you, Sharon.” She stood and threw away her eggs before pushing Sharon out of the way at the stove.

Sharon made a face. “Plenty of people do that.”

“So how was he?”

Sharon frowned. “Good? Careful. Like he was holding back.”

Natasha frowned as she shoved eggs around in the frying pan. “Possessive?”

Sharon leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Not particularly. But then, I don’t think he thought his mattress would steal me away. Why?” 

The answer didn’t come immediately. “He followed you to our sparring session. I only saw by chance. I think he left once he saw us together.”

Sharon looked away, quiet. “That isn’t good.”

Natasha didn’t disagree. “You have to act as if you don’t know. Your odds of getting information are better if he thinks you don’t suspect anything.”

“I don’t think it’s me,” Sharon said slowly. “He didn’t have any pictures of me. He doesn’t pry for information.”

“It’s something else. You’re a means to an end.” Natasha glanced at her as she finished making breakfast for them both. Sharon was a young spy, by most standards. But whereas Natasha had been trained by people who used her as a spy, Sharon had spent her childhood learning how to be a spy. Natasha’s choice had been taken away, and she’d been left to adapt with no disillusions. Sharon, having wanted this life, chosen it, might find that it was even less glamorous than she’d thought. “Sorry to put a dent in your ego.”

“Good thing he isn’t bad at sex,” Sharon mused. Her tone was dry.

Natasha exhaled softly and started doling the eggs onto plates. Maybe Sharon had fewer illusions than she thought.

Or maybe, she worried, part of Sharon actually liked Brock Rumlow despite the young spy’s concerns. Brock wasn’t unattractive. He could be charming when he wanted to be.

“I’ll talk to Fury,” she promised. “Maybe he knows if something’s up. Since so far all we’ve got on him that you can corroborate is that he followed you once, he might write it off as a personal matter, but he’ll still deal with it.”

Sharon frowned and looked at the door. Fury had given her the task of protecting Captain Rogers’ apartment personally. The mission was deep off the books with Fury paying for most of it himself. He’d told Sharon that only she, Natasha, Maria, and Fury himself were to know where Captain Rogers lived. “Does he know where Steve lives?”

The two looked at each other in silence, each wondering why Brock would want to know where Steve lived, why he would follow Sharon. Did he know she was bodyguarding him?

Natasha gently shoved a plate of newly-made eggs into Sharon’s ribs. “Eat.”

* * *

They only ever slept together at his place, and she always left after he’d fallen asleep. Normally it would have been the perfect relationship.

He was in trouble. He could admit that now. He liked talking with her, sleeping with her. He liked how she didn’t let him push her around and pushed back those times when he let loose a little too much. He liked how she challenged him, how stubborn she was. How soft her skin was and how hard her grasp could be.

He was going to break her. Break her and remake her as a HYDRA agent the way Winter Soldier had been remade. Then he’d be able to keep her alive so he could break her over and over again.

He finally tracked her to a building where she didn’t come out of any exits and smiled to himself. Closer and closer.

* * *

Nick listened silently to Natasha’s report, although calling it a report was far from accurate. “You’re sure he followed her.”

Natasha nodded. “I didn’t tell Sharon, but I’ve followed him following her a couple times since. He follows her every time she leaves work or from one of their dates. She’s managed to lose him every time. But he’s getting closer. He knows what building she’s in now.”

Nick grumbled some curses to himself, leaning back and running a hand over his face. “And neither of you think it’s a stalker thing?”

She shook her head, though her gaze stayed focused on him. “She’s searched his apartment. If he has any stalker tendencies about her, she hasn’t been able to find proof. She hasn’t been able to find proof of anything else, either, but neither of us know why he’d be buddying up to her unless he’s either after her or Captain Rogers.”

He huffed a sigh. “Fine. I’ve got another assignment for her; I need somebody with the CIA in a couple days. You’ve got another mission. Sitwell went and got himself captured by pirates, and you, Captain Rogers, and Rumlow are going to bail him out. I’ll talk to Carter once I’ve got stuff set up for her next assignment, and we’ll keep Rumlow too busy to track her until then.”

* * *

The first time Brock cancelled a date, Captain Rogers had gone rogue and had to be hunted down. The next time he saw her, he held a gun to her tech’s head, slashed her arm, and she tried to shoot him. He loved every second. He loved the way she froze when HYDRA was revealed, how she could only stare when he revealed himself as one of them, how she fell when he cut her, how angry she was when she shot him. It occurred to him then that he genuinely liked her; he just wished he’d had more time to watch her in pain. 

But he would always enjoy the way her jaw had clenched when he called her “Agent.”

* * *

The burns were severe enough that he kept to the shadows as he waited in her apartment. Once he’d heard that Fury died in Rogers’ apartment, he knew where she lived. It made sense. The empty house that Fury must have set up. Her being a legacy that Fury would trust, living in the same building as Rogers.

She came in, empty cardboard boxes banging against the door, and he slipped behind her and wrapped an arm around her throat. He pulled her against him and closed the door behind her as the boxes fell from her fingers. “Miss me, Agent?”

He expected her to struggle, even fight. He wasn’t worried; he was STRIKE. She was a desk jockey who hadn’t seen real field work in over a year. She might spar every so often, but she couldn’t beat him when he wasn’t holding back.

But he’d underestimated her again. She headbutted him in his face, and he fell back with a grunt. His wounds hadn’t healed yet, and his face hurt like hell. She broke away, and even though he was nearly blind, he jumped forward and tackled her to the floor. “That’s no way to treat your boyfriend.” He squeezed the bandage on her arm and listened to the choked whimper of pain with smug satisfaction.

“Consider yourself dumped.” She tried to hit him with an elbow, but his vision was now clear enough that he grabbed it and twisted it behind her back. She hissed.

“Order through pain,” he murmured with a grin. He leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. “You’re not unbreakable... What do you say, Agent? Death or HYDRA?”

She scowled bitterly. “How about I kick your ass?”

He tsked and shoved his knee into her back. “Death, then. But first, we’re going to have some fun. I was too gentle with you before.”

“How about we get rough with you?”

Brock recognized the voice. “You brought Romanoff to join the fun, Agent? You really are too good to me.”

“Actually.” Brock recognized that voice, too. Rogers, damn it. “She brought back-up. I suggest you get off of her now, Rumlow.”

Though pinned to the ground, Sharon hadn’t lost the attitude that Brock had grudgingly started to like about her. “You’re late. Ice again?”

Though Brock couldn’t see them very well in the darkness, he knew from experience that Rogers would be preparing to throw that damned shield of his. “Just traffic this time.”

Brock didn’t move except to lean his knee more deeply into her back. If he couldn’t have some fun with her, he could at least paralyze her. “Trap. You set a trap me.”

Sharon turned her head to see him, but her hair was in the way. Brock automatically brushed it out of her face, a gesture he’d grown accustomed to when they were in bed together. “Surrender or death, Rumlow. Your choice.”

“And I don’t want to speak for these guys,” Rogers’ new friend spoke up, a gun in each hand, “but I’m really hoping you choose the second option.”

Brock ignored him - he’d let their new toy feel a little cocky after their fight at the Triskellion; Brock could afford to let the guy have that - and grinned down at Sharon before pushing himself to his feet. Whatever they had planned for him, he’d escape. And then, when he had time to play with her, he’d come back for her. “I underestimated you, Agent. I won’t do that again.”

She sat up, trusting Natasha, Steve, and Sam to keep an eye on him as still-loyal SHIELD agents came in. If everything went according to plan, Brock would be interrogated and, if he wasn’t forthcoming, tortured. After all he’d done, part of her was looking forward to it. “You’ve said that before.”

* * *

Sharon sat on the couch with Natasha while Steve changed her bandage.

“I told you he was sick,” Natasha murmured, popping open a beer and handing it to Sharon. 

“You worked with him, and you didn’t know. And no, you didn’t.”

Natasha blithely ignored the correction. “You slept with him, and you didn’t know.”

Sharon scowled. “We knew something was up. I just didn’t think it would be HYDRA.”

“None of us did.” Natasha took a swig of her own beer. “This whole thing could have gone differently if he’d slept in HYDRA sheets.”

Sharon glared at her as Steve finished and tugged down her sleeve. He looked almost as uncomfortable as Sharon felt. “Can we focus on something else?”

Natasha shook her head, then reconsidered. “Your crappy taste in men? You know, you could always let me set you up...”

Steve joined Sam by the window. Despite knowing that Sharon had only been doing her job, he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with her, even though they were each taking pains to chat as normally, or at least as civilly, as they had before. “Don’t do it,” he warned Sharon. “She’s relentless.” His phone rang, and he didn’t hesitate as he answered. Evidently, speech on his end wasn’t required. He didn’t speak at all until he hung up with a frown. “Rumlow escaped in transit.”

They looked at each other in silence, each of them knowing what Rumlow was capable of.

“I’ve got an assignment with the CIA,” Sharon said quietly. “Different name. Different everything.”

“Yeah, you’ll need those to dodge your psycho-ex,” Natasha half-teased.

“We’ll be a phone call away,” Steve promised, giving Natasha an exasperated look.

Natasha’s expression was wicked. “You know, you two would be cute together.” She saw their faces of discomfort, and her smile spread. “Yep. Definitely cute together.”


End file.
